


Impossible Girl

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Clubbing, Crossdressing, M/M, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-03
Updated: 2005-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:51:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's saving-people-thing works out, for once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impossible Girl

Tonks had talked him into it. "Remus thinks he's gay again," she'd said while they were clocking out after six hours of surveillance. "I'm bored. Let's go out."

Harry shrugged and agreed. They'd been watching a supposed Death Eater meeting place for a week now, and he needed a drink. Some eye-candy would be nice, but he'd settle for a pint at the Leaky and maybe a game of darts with Tonks and Kingsley.

"Not the Leaky," she said. "I want to try something different. I'll meet you at your place in an hour."

::

  


"You're dead to me, Nymphadora Louise Tonks." He shook off the trailing shivers he always felt after Apparating.

"Oh, hush. You look lovely." She grinned at him, dark eyes set into olive skin and topped with short curly black hair.

"Whereas you look like a boy." He stopped and looked her up and down. "Kind of."

"That's the point, Harry." She smiled. "You look like a boy, too. Just more of one."

He looked down, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. She'd brought clothes for him, a sheer black t-shirt cut a bit too short and black leather jeans that fit just like his favorite pair. The outfit was almost comfortable until he remembered what he was wearing. "When are you going to tell me where we're going and why I'm dressed like Blaise Zabini?"

"We're going to Opal. It's a Muggle club." She darted a glance at him. "I think you might find what you're hunting."

He frowned. "I'm not looking for anything in particular, Tonks."

"Then you're more likely to find it, aren't you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Just tell me about this place."

"Boys, girls, boys being girls, girls doing girls dressed as boys," she said, a slight flush on her cheeks. "It's - well, it's nice, Harry. Being who you want to be, not who you are."

"Thought you got enough of that," he said gently.

"Not like this," she said, drawing him down two steps and under a black awning dusted with glimmering fire.

Harry paid their cover charges and followed Tonks along a darkened hallway that ended in a set of dark drapes. Just before he pulled the fabric back, she leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Nobody here knows who you want to be, Harry," she whispered. "Have fun." She slipped through the drapes, and he followed.

Just as the drapes fell behind him, he lost sight of her. She wasn't the only girl here wearing a tight white t-shirt and rolled-up jeans, nor the only boy. Harry hung back for a moment, trying to catch his bearings in the crowded room. Someone patted his arse and he jumped, startled. A tall woman with a disturbingly prominent Adam's apple grinned at him unrepentantly. He blushed and made his way through the throng toward the bar.

"Whisky and soda. Whatever you're pouring," he yelled at the bartender, who held up four fingers. Harry dug in his pocket for some Muggle paper money and handed over a fiver, waving off his change. God, he hated drinking in clubs, but it purchased a bit of space for his own use.

He leaned back against the bar and watched the crowd pass, trying to sort the boys from the girls. He'd never cared much one way or the other; sex was fun, no matter the equipment involved. Tonks was the same way, which was why Remus and his endless second-guessing and re-labeling amused them so much. Still, there was something going on here that he wasn't quite clear on. Harry shrugged and sipped his drink. At least there were pretty people to look at. He'd get Tonks to explain it all later.

An emphatic gesture across the room caught his eye. Some thestral-sized man was hitting on a girl in a plum rubber dress. Harry thought the guy looked like Krum, but the girl wasn't half bad from behind. Trim shoulders nipping into a tiny waist, slim hips, legs a mile long wrapped in ultra-sheer black hose, the full hem of her skirt ending just below the point where he could tell whether they were stockings or pantyhose. He approved, and began to maneuver across the room to get a better view.

As he got closer, the guy who wasn't Krum put his hand on the girl's thigh and started sliding it upward. She stepped away and said something. He shot her an angry look, then pulled her to him, kissing her sloppily. She jerked back. He stood and grabbed her arm, yanking her across the dance floor. Harry sighed and went to intercept the couple. _Just once_ , he thought, _a night out without the saving-people-thing would be nice_. 

"Problem?" Harry slid in front of the girl, subtly shouldering the gorilla out of her direct line of sight.

"Darling!" She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him thoroughly.

Harry was startled, but had gotten worse surprises before. Clearly she needed him to play along. He returned her kiss, then leaned back a bit. "Sorry I'm late. Work." He turned to confront her harasser, but he had melted into the crowd.

"Whatever you do, don't act surprised." The whisper was husky and low, and oddly familiar. Her chandelier earring brushed his shoulder as he turned back to her. White-blonde hair cropped nearly toothbrush-short. Cheekbones that could cut glass. Heart-shaped face. Huge grey eyes rimmed in plum to match her dress and stained lips. Lush eyelashes that even _he_ could tell were false. "Thank Merlin you glamoured your scar, or we'd be in deep shite right now. Are those contact lenses?"

Harry felt like he'd gotten a Bludger to the gut. "Ma-"

Malfoy kissed him again, stopping the words, then licked a trail up to Harry's earlobe. "Shhh, idiot," he whispered. "They're watching. Be my goddamn boyfriend or we're both dead." He pulled back, staring into Harry's eyes. "All right?"

Harry swallowed hard, then dropped a soft kiss on the tip of Malfoy's nose. "You always go for the rough trade when I'm not around?" He felt Malfoy relax just a bit against him. "What's this all about? Can we get out of here?"

Panic flashed across Malfoy's face. "There are at least six of them still here," he murmured, his voice moving back up into a higher register. "Follow my lead, and I'll try to explain." He unwound one arm from Harry's waist, but kept the other firmly in place as he guided Harry through the crowd.

Harry scanned the throng as they passed. There were a few other bulky men who looked vaguely Krum-like. He couldn't see Tonks anywhere. Then again, he didn't know what she looked like right now. For all he knew, she had morphed into Malfoy dressed like a girl, and it was Tonks who was pushing him into an oversized blue armchair and curling up on his lap.

"Just tell me you're not Tonks."

Malfoy was watching the crowd. "Hm? Oh, my changeable cousin? I saw her come in with you. No, it's me." He turned back to Harry, twining his arms around Harry's neck and nibbling his earlobe again. "Scared, Potter?"

Harry wiggled as Malfoy's tongue began to trace patterns on his neck. "You wish."

"Told you it was me," Malfoy whispered. "Can you live with the short version for now?"

Harry nodded. Any explanation would do at this point. In his most bizarre fantasies, he had never had a lapful of rubber-encased girl-Draco intent on licking him kitten-clean. He hoped there was a reason that he could live with. Especially since it was rather nice.

Malfoy kissed him again. "They're Romanian," he murmured. "On a diplomatic mission to the Dark Lord. I'm showing them the decadent Muggle culture." He placed a row of soft feathering lip-prints along Harry's jaw. "Problem is, they want me as bait." Another kiss. "To force the Dark Lord to join _their_ struggle."

Harry pulled back, frowning. "They're trying to kidnap you."

Malfoy nodded, snuggling into Harry's chest. "Play along, Potter. You look like you're getting an unwanted lap dance, not snogging your girlfriend."

Harry wrapped his arms around Malfoy, nuzzling along his hairline. "So I rescue you from the big scary blokes, then you run back to Voldemort?" He could feel Malfoy chuckle against his chest.

"No, git. Don't they tell you anything? You and my cousin are here to pull me out. This kidnap issue is a complication we didn't plan for."

"Pull you out?"

"You really didn't know?" Malfoy wriggled around and straddled Harry's lap. "Tell me, please, that you aren't at the most notorious genderfuck club in London as part of your ordinary Thursday routine." His eyes gleamed. "Or is Saint Potter one of us?"

"Tonks brought me," Harry muttered.

Malfoy peered more closely at Harry. "Did she dress you? I love the shirt, but the platform boots are a bit much. I don't like it when you're taller than me, even if I'm just wearing kitten heels." He grinned, tracing a finger down Harry's nose. "The eyeliner is rather nice, though. She has a light hand, my cousin, but it's enough."

The lizard part of Harry's brain noticed the rubber dress had lacing up the front that managed to give Malfoy some rather nice cleavage. He groaned and buried his face in Malfoy's shoulder. "Kill me now."

"Harry," said Malfoy, lacing his hand into Harry's hair and pulling his head back, "that's the whole point. You're the brave Gryffindor rescuing the fair maiden. If you back off, they kill me. Easy enough, if that's what you want." He kissed Harry again, lips soft and open. "Is it?"

"I was on top of the tower that night," said Harry. "I know what Albus said to you. What Snape promised him." He reached up and traced Malfoy's cheekbone with his fingertip. "I've been hunting you for two years, you and Snape." Malfoy was frozen on his lap. "Getting you killed is not part of my plan."

"So..." Malfoy didn't move.

"So your thug friends are watching us, pretty girl," said Harry softly, "and I can't see Tonks anywhere. Your plan's as good as anything I could come up with right now."

Malfoy bit his lip. "You really will?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, you great idiot, I am going to walk out of here and live my life happily ever after, knowing I got you murdered for a turf war between rival gangs when I could have rescued you _and_ spent the evening snogging a cute blonde in a rubber dress." He frowned at Malfoy. "You can be such a wanker. Now quit straddling me. It's not ladylike, and your mother would be mortified."

Malfoy stared at him for a second, then dissolved in giggles. Harry just shook his head. "I should have known. You have always been such a _girl_ \- Herbology, Magical Creatures, the list goes on."

"Oh, shut it," said Malfoy as he stood up. "Shove over. That chair's big enough for the both of us." Harry slid to the right, and Malfoy curled up next to him, legs draped over Harry's lap and head on his shoulder. "I can't believe they didn't tell you."

Harry rested his left arm around Malfoy's shoulders. "I can. Especially if Shacklebolt and Moody are involved. Are they? Is Snape part of this?" 

"Mmmhm." Malfoy was stroking the mesh shirt, tracing Harry's nipples through the fabric. "Have been for ages. Kingsley's my contact. It was Moody, but...you know. Feels like he's going to bounce me down the hall. Snape should be with Lupin by now."

"How long is ages?" Somehow Harry's right hand had decided to start touching Malfoy's legs, smooth and sleek in the black - stockings? Pantyhose? He realized he still didn't know.

"A year and a bit," Malfoy murmured into his neck between kisses and nibbles. "It took a while to convince them."

"You should have just sat in Kingsley's lap," Harry said, a bit breathlessly. "I find you rather convincing already." His fingers made tiny circles on the back of Malfoy's knee.

"He's not my type."

"No?" Harry noticed the Romanian goons watching them, their eyes a bit glassy. Then he saw Tonks, circling behind them, and a familiar shaved mahogany head moving above the crowd. He bent to nip Malfoy's ear, whispering quietly to him. "Reinforcements have arrived. I see Kingsley. Your boyfriends are enjoying the show, by the way."

Malfoy went rigid in his arms.

"Don’t fuck this up now, pretty girl," whispered Harry. "Just two tipsy kids who can't keep their hands off each other, okay?" He started to stroke Malfoy's leg again. "I can see why they didn't tell me. My rescue plans have mostly centered on grand entrances and epic speeches."

Malfoy started to relax. "Stupid hero. You'd get yourself killed," he whispered, slipping his hand under the hem of Harry's shirt.

"Yup," said Harry solemnly. "My entire strategic approach has changed in the last hour. I will now snog Voldemort to death while wearing rubber trousers." His fingers wandered up the back of Malfoy's thigh.

"Silly Gryffindor. Do you have any idea how long it takes to get rubber trousers on?" Malfoy kissed him slowly, his hand smoothing across Harry's stomach. "Plus, far too sweaty. You'd need a nice red dress. The Dark Lord likes his girls in colours."

There was a slight commotion in the crowd as the Romanians were escorted away by Aurors. Shacklebolt caught Harry's eye and tipped his head toward the door. Harry nodded back. "They've got them," he whispered. He slid his hand further up Malfoy's leg, then - skin. "Oh God, Draco, stockings...."

Draco caught Harry's shudder with another kiss. "I'll take that as approval, Potter?"

Harry leaned his forehead into Draco's shoulder and kept touching the soft crescent of skin above the stocking top. He was painfully hard and wanted nothing more than to get this maddening girl off his lap and somewhere dark and quiet. It was Malfoy, though, and this had somehow turned into a mission, and they were both boys, and Draco was probably straight anyway, and nothing was going to happen, but right now, oh God, right now Malfoy was so pretty and he was so _fucking_ hard. 

"Harry? Are you all right? We need to stay for ten more minutes, then get out before the search brigade shows up." He sat up, tipping Harry's chin back and searching his face. "You don't look well."

Harry let his head flop back onto the chair and sighed. "Just give me a minute. Get things under control." He forced himself to pull his hand away from Draco's leg and return it to the chair's arm, where he could keep an eye on his rogue fingertips. Draco nodded and snuggled under Harry's arm, resting his cheek against Harry's chest. They sat quietly like that for a while, until Harry's breathing returned to normal.

"I'm sorry, Potter." Draco's voice was quiet and muffled against Harry's shirt. "I thought they'd tell you."

"No," said Harry. "It's not that."

"Then I'm sorry you're straight and I took advantage of you." Draco peeked up at him through the false lashes. "Actually, I really am sorry you're straight. Ickle Potter's all grown up."

Harry chuckled. "It's not that either."

Draco shrugged. "Fine, Potter. Keep your secrets. We've got less than five minutes before we have to leave, and then you can deliver me to Order headquarters and get me out of your life."

"Given that Order HQ is in my fucking house, I think that's less than likely," said Harry. He grinned as Draco looked up at him. "Quit apologizing, will you?"

Draco sat up a bit, staring intently at Harry. "You're not angry."

"No."

"You're not disgusted."

"No."

"You're wearing eyeliner."

"So are you."

"Yeah." Draco bit his lip again, worrying at it.

"What's wrong now?"

"I want to kiss you again, but it feels weird. Different."

"I want you to kiss me, Draco." Harry leaned toward him.

"That’s what's different," said Draco huskily as he lifted his mouth to Harry's.

Harry would not have been surprised if the back of his head had suddenly flown off and hit the wall. Draco's tongue was in his mouth, his tongue was in Draco's, they were kissing and panting and someone was making soft whimpering sounds, he had his arms locked down tight around this beguiling creature and, if his life ended in the next three minutes, Harry could not think of a single regret except that he never had gotten to see those damn stocking tops.

"Time," said Draco as he clambered off Harry's lap and grabbed his hand. "Come _on_ , Harry. We have to go. Now."

Harry stumbled after Draco, following him through the crowd and across the dance floor thick with people moving to the heavy bass. Draco maneuvered his way past tables and service carts, into a draped alcove, and out through a plain metal door. They ran through a back hallway filled with empty liquor bottles and pallets of glassware, then pushed through a heavy exit door into a dank little alley behind the club.

"Is that a wand in your pocket?"

"Who writes your dialogue, Malfoy?" Harry tried to catch his breath.

"No, seriously, Potter. Is that your wand? I need you to transfigure mine back."

Harry nodded and reached for the slender pocket in his trouser seam. Draco took out one of his earrings and held it out to Harry. " _Finite_ that, will you?" Harry cast the spell, and Draco's delicate crystal and silver earring turned back into its familiar shape.

"Merlin, that's better. I hate not having it. Feels unsafe." Draco held out his hand. "Ready?"

Harry took Draco's hand and pulled him close. "Just a second." He buried his face in Draco's hair, then bent to kiss him. "Just making sure you're still real."

Draco chuckled. "Still real. Can we go?"

"Not yet." Harry backed Draco into the alley wall, kissing him slowly and thoroughly. Draco moaned softly, his arms twining around Harry's waist. Harry nudged Draco's knees apart with his own, sliding his thigh firmly between Draco's legs.

"Harry, we have to leave." His whisper was soft and tentative.

"Ssshh. Not yet." Harry kissed down Draco's neck, one hand braced against the rough brick wall and the other sliding under the dress's hem, back to that captivating sliver of skin where Draco's thigh ended. He spread his fingers wide, cupping the whole cheek in his hand, feeling the garter strap rasp against his palm. "God, Draco," he murmured. "So pretty." He stepped back to look at Draco, flushed and panting.

"That's three times you've said that." Draco turned even pinker.

Harry smiled as he fell to his knees. "Maybe because it's true, Malfoy."

"What are you doing?"

"Proving it to you, you great git." Harry ran his hands up Draco's legs, slowly lifting the hem of his dress. "Hold this, will you? I want to see your face while I do this." Draco gathered up the skirt, holding it to his stomach with one hand. Harry smiled at him, then turned back to his task.

"Um. Draco?"

"Yes?"

Harry stared at Draco's crotch, which was snugly wrapped in red nylon mesh held together with gold laces. "You're wearing. . .well, you're wearing Gryffindor knickers."

Draco's nervous energy boiled over into giggles again. "Just a little bit of sympathetic magic, Potter."

Harry shook his head. "You're insane. Pretty, but insane." He carefully pulled one of the laces, then the other, letting the wisp of mesh drop to the ground. Draco's cock sprang free, bobbing gently. Harry touched it lightly, trailing down to cup his sac. "You shaved?"

Draco winced. "Hair and rubber don't mix, okay?"

"I'll remember that," Harry said softly. He leaned forward and nuzzled the juncture between Draco's hip and thigh, then lavished a series of little tongue flicks across the smooth rise of his pelvic ridge. Draco moaned as his cock, plum-purple like his dress, slid across Harry's cheek. Harry smiled as he raised one hand to his mouth, licking it thoroughly. He wrapped his newly-slick fingers closed around the base of Draco's cock, then slid his mouth over the leaking tip until his lips met his finger and thumb.

Draco whimpered, and Harry glanced upward, chuckling at the utter debauchery of the whole thing: dress, makeup, stockings, arrogant Malfoy up against a dirt-smeared alley wall, desperately hard cock thrusting down his throat, all of it impossibly beautiful.

"Don't laugh, Harry, for God's sake don't laugh," said Draco in a panicked tone, scrabbling his fingers into Harry's hair and pulling. "I'm so close already -"

Harry smiled and sucked harder, wrapping his other arm around Draco's waist to hold himself steady. Draco's fingers wound even more tightly into Harry's hair as he gasped and squeezed his eyes tight. "Close, Harry, don't stop, ohgodpleasejustlikethatdon'tstopharryohgodohgodoh. . .." The words ran together and died out as Draco came, his hips jerking against Harry's face.

Harry held Draco in his mouth until the last spasms died away, then sat back and spat the bitter mouthful into his hand. "My apologies, kitten. I'm normally a swallower, but I don't suppose that other earring is a thing of lube, is it?"

Draco caught his breath, an evil smile stealing across his face. "Sorry, no. Did you have something in mind before the Death Eaters show up and kill us?"

Harry stood carefully, grinning in return. "This won't take long. I've been on the edge since you first turned around." He leaned in and kissed Draco, slipping his hand between them and spreading the handful of come over Draco's puckered entrance.

Draco moaned into Harry's mouth, his hands frantically working the snap and zip of Harry's leather trousers. He slipped a hand inside and began to laugh. "At least I was _wearing_ knickers, you slut."

"Tonks wouldn't let me," Harry muttered as he slipped a second finger into Draco. "Said they gave me lines."

"Remind me to send her flowers," whispered Draco, hands busy on Harry's cock, "right after you fuck me." He swung one leg up around Harry's waist, angling his hips and hands until he had the head of Harry's cock in place.

Harry slid his fingers out of Draco's ass and braced against the wall, kissing his impossible girl desperately as he eased carefully past the tight muscle. It wasn't quite slippery enough without real lube, but using Draco's come was hot enough to get Harry past the unexpected drag of skin on skin. Draco began to thrust against him, tiny slides that brought Harry even closer to the edge.

"Careful," Harry panted, "so close -"

"Let go, Harry," Draco whispered, rocking his hips more deeply.

Harry buried his face in Draco's neck, feeling his bollocks grow tight as the tension built. He stroked harder, bouncing Draco's hips against the alley wall, growling as the first waves hit and he spilled over the brink. Draco held him tightly until the shudders stopped, kissing his neck softly and trailing his tongue along Harry's collarbone.

"Sorry that was so fast." Harry slipped out of Draco, who kissed him in return.

"Don't worry about it. We're in a bit of a hurry anyway. Remember? Impending death?"

"Right, forgot about that part." He winked and bent to pick up the discarded knickers, using them to wipe Draco and himself. Draco tucked him back into his leather trousers and zipped them closed.

"As delightful as that was, my hero, can we get the hell out of here?" Draco's eyes filled with worry.

Harry nodded, shoving the knickers into his pocket. "Let's go."

"You're keeping those? Pervert." Draco laughed, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist. They could hear thuds and shouts coming from inside the club, and bootheels pounding down the street outside the alley.

"Yes, but I'm a sentimental pervert. It's completely different." Harry leaned down and kissed Draco's nose. "Ready for the rest of your life?"

Draco nodded.

The crack of Apparition still echoed in the alley when Rabastan Lestrange burst through the club's exit door, wand poised to fire.


End file.
